My son, Joey, lives in Florida. He is 7-9 hours away, depending on who is behind the wheel (7 for him, 9 for us old baggers). Close enough for a long weekend visit, too far for a day trip. The consequence is that we enjoy his company only a handful of times a year, and only for a few days at a time.
This weekend was one of those handfuls. I'll call it a bouquet of offspring instead, because another benefit of Joey's visits is family time. Having all three of my offspring in the same place at the same time doesn't happen very often these days, so when it does I'm one happy mama. I've been grinning all weekend!
Last evening, after a wonderful day spent boating, tubing and swimming at the lake, we ate dinner at our favorite family restaurant. We have been dining there as a unit for almost two decades. If the place ever closes down I'll need therapy and psychotropic drugs to cope with the loss. The above photo was taken last night as we left the restaurant.
Joey headed back to Florida this morning, and I performed the mommy ritual of fighting back tears while waving goodbye and trying not to make him feel guilty for growing up and flying away. Why should I be unhappy, after all, when he has successfully accomplished that for which his dad and I prepared him?
I've been sitting here thinking about the weekend and how blessed we were to have our kids together, laughing and teasing and having fun; how blessed we are just to have our kids.
Gotta tell you, buttercup, I'm one happy mama!
Til next time -
Lisa
Yesterday I talked on the phone with my sister, and tonight I chatted with my brother. Hearing their voices buoys my spirits.
I'm the baby of the family, and had anyone divulged to my 7-year-old self that I would adore my older siblings one day, I would have contemplated wedging a ginormous wad of abc green apple bubble gum right up his/her nose, because gum up the snout is a suitable punishment for people who lie to children.
Obviously, I would never have actually performed such a heinous act, because I was an angel. Honest.
At the age of 7 I didn't care much for the pecking order. In retrospect, it turned out to be a good deal having two people who believed protecting me was a directive straight from God. Yeah, I survived the usual torture doled out by older siblings, but it was a small price to pay for the blessings that ran alongside it.
All those childhood arguments and fights and disagreements and rivalries that comprised every day living were stepping stones that gave way to hugs and kisses and laughter and shared tears and grief and memories of things so good that it aches to remember them.
We can't pick our siblings. They are given to us without our input or permission. But if we are very lucky and all the stars align, we get to grow up with our very best friends.
Til next time -
Lisa
